


The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Dylan Strome

by lotts (LottieAnna)



Category: Men's Hockey RPF, Tiny Meat Gang (Band)
Genre: Coming Out, Crack Treated Seriously, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Weddings, not an au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-08
Updated: 2020-03-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 14:08:35
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22984705
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LottieAnna/pseuds/lotts
Summary: “So, look, here’s what happened,” Dylan says, without any sort of prelude. “I love my family, right, and I wanted to tell them I was into guys without it being too big of a deal, so I thought it would be better to tell them I was seeing someone, and at the time it just felt more like, y’know, one of those small white lies, except then it sort of spiraled into a thing where I was pretending I have a boyfriend, and now my brother is getting married, and my parents expect to meet him?”“Uh,” Cody says. Right now, there’s a 60% chance this is all a dream. “That’s… a lot.”
Relationships: Dylan Strome/Cody Ko
Comments: 35
Kudos: 228
Collections: The Dylan Strome Celebration 2020





	The Mortifying Ordeal Of Being Dylan Strome

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dylansstrome](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dylansstrome/gifts).

> IF YOU FOUND THIS THROUGH GOOGLING, KNOW ANYONE MENTIONED IN THIS STORY PERSONALLY, OR ARE MENTIONED YOURSELF: please, please click away. This is a work of fiction and nothing written in this story is true. Any accurate information used in this story is publicly available information about public figures, the rest is a 100% made-up story that happens to borrow their names and faces.
> 
> HELLO TO MY DEAREST RECIP. your dear author letter filled my heart with joy and i truly hope this fic does the same for you! i had a grand ole time writing this pairing and i'm so glad you req'd it.

Cody doesn’t make a habit of responding to his DM’s, but he looks at them more often than he’s proud of. 

Whatever, he’s famous and insecure, he’s gonna do it from time to time. He’s not above some shallow ego stroking; he’s a YouTuber, not a saint or reasonably self-assured person. Most of it is standard fanmail, lots of people asking him to record shoutouts or mention them in videos, the occasional weird, out-there message that leaves him feeling sort of uncomfortable, even though they’re mostly designed to get his attention. Some of them are nice, though— people telling him they like his shoes, his hair, his eyes, his smile. 

So, yeah, he looks sometimes. Sue him. 

But tonight, as he’s looking, one of the messages actually catches his eye— not because it’s particularly weird, but because it’s from a verified account. Which isn’t unheard of, but isn’t exactly commonplace, either, so Cody figures he might as well open the message and see what it’s about. He has no idea who the guy is, aside from the fact that his name is apparently Dylan Strome, and that he’s got a blue checkmark next to his name. 

_ dylstrome19: hey this is probably weird because we’ve never met or anything, but I need someone to pretend to be my boyfriend for this wedding, and you’re literally the best option i have. _

Cody stares at the message for a second, not sure how seriously he should take it, then proceeds to do a deep dive into the guy’s Instagram. He’s a hockey player, apparently, which makes a weird amount of sense— NHL hockey is Cody’s big pop culture blind spot, but clearly this guy is famous enough in his own right. He plays for Chicago, apparently, and that’s a big deal team in a big city. Enough people probably know his name that he doesn’t do shit like this at random.

So, naturally, Cody responds with:  _ what.  _

A few minutes later, a reply comes through, which is a little bit of a surprise— Cody figured that, if the guy responded at all, it would be at least 24 hours. 

_ dylstrome19: my brother’s getting married this summer  _

_ codyko: i figured as much  _

_ dylstrome19: and i sort of let my family believe i’m dating someone?  _

_ dylstrome19: and you’re the only one who fits the profile of the person they think i’m dating  _

_ codyko: uh _

_ codyko: are you sure you don’t have me confused with someone else _

_ dylstrome19: lol _

_ dylstrome19: no i don’t  _

_ dylstrome19: i know this is fucking weird but i told them my bf was sorta famous so i couldn’t tell them who?  _

_ dylstrome19: idk i was just trying to buy more time  _

_ dylstrome19: idk if that makes sense. basically i told them my bf wasn’t out and i couldn’t tell them who he was because he was kinda famous _

_ codyko: why did you tell them you had a boyfriend if you. don’t.  _

_ dylstrome19: i needed to come out to them and i figured that would be the easiest way to do it  _

Cody’s never had to come out to anyone before, but he has to imagine that would be hard, so that… almost makes sense to him, he thinks. 

_ dylstrome19: can we just call? _

_ dylstrome19: it will be easier to explain over the phone  _

Cody thinks this whole thing is moving a little fast, but then again— fuck it, he might as well. This is one of the weirder, more harmless things that’s happened to him. 

_ dylstrome19: here’s my #  _

Jesus, this kid must be either desperate or a full marathon past giving a fuck. 

Cody stares at the phone number for a second, wondering if he’s actually going to do this, before he decides to stop thinking and just fucking FaceTime him. 

Dylan looks fuzzier than he had on his insta profile— more disheveled, and the fact that the only thing lighting his face is his phone screen isn’t doing him many favors. Cody briefly wonders what kind of person FaceTimes from a dark room, before he remembers that that’s the least of his concerns when it comes to Dylan’s character.

“So, look, here’s what happened,” Dylan says, without any sort of prelude. “I love my family, right, and I wanted to tell them I was into guys without it being too big of a deal, so I thought it would be better to tell them I was seeing someone, and at the time it just felt more like, y’know, one of those small white lies, except then it sort of spiraled into a thing where I was pretending I have a boyfriend, and now my brother is getting married, and my parents expect to meet him?” 

“Uh,” Cody says. Right now, there’s a 60% chance this is all a dream. “That’s… a lot.”

“I know,” Dylan groans. “The whole situation is a mess and I’m an idiot, you don’t need to tell me that.”

“I wasn’t going to?” Cody isn’t sure why that comes out as a question. “Can we, like, introduce ourselves?” 

“Oh,” Dylan says, like he has to shift gears to understand why that might be in order. “Right. I’m Dylan, I play hockey, and I’m… a fucking mess, I guess?”

Cody snorts.

“Look, you caught me at a bad time,” Dylan says.

“You’re the one who asked to call.”

“Whatever,” Dylan says. “I’m kind of drunk and very stressed right now. I’m usually a much more normal person. I follow, like, social norms.”

“I’m sure you do,” Cody says.

“Well, if you responded, you’re probably at least a little bit of a mess too,” Dylan says. “No offense.” 

“None taken.” A little taken, but he’s a little too disoriented by this whole thing to really process that. “Why are you drunk?” 

“Because I need to find a fake boyfriend to bring to my brother’s wedding, and because I went out earlier,” Dylan says. 

“Fair enough.” 

Dylan frowns. “Stop doing that.” 

“Doing what?” 

“Judging me,” Dylan says. “I can feel your judginess.” 

“You’re asking me to be your  _ fake boyfriend,”  _ Cody says. “I’m not judging, I’m wondering why I’m even considering this.” 

“But you are?” Dylan asks. 

“Obviously I am.” Cody is starting to get a little annoyed, partially with Dylan, but mostly with himself. “I’m on this call, aren’t I?” 

“I guess,” Dylan says. A pause. “Why are you?” 

And Cody doesn’t really know, but the fact is: in the face of many perfectly logical solutions, there’s something about him that doesn’t  _ want  _ to say no, and even if he doesn’t understand that part of himself, it’s clearly real, so he doesn’t really have any other choice but to follow his gut.

“When’s this wedding?” Cody asks, ignoring Dylan’s question. 

“First weekend in August,” Dylan says quickly. “Does that mean you’ll—” 

“I don’t know,” Cody says. “Maybe, just— let me check my schedule, okay?” 

“Right,” Dylan says, nodding. “Look, if there’s anything I can do to make it easier for you, or— like, obviously I’d owe you big time, so let me know.” 

“I— okay, sure, whatever,” Cody says. “Just let me see what my summer looks like, okay?” He also thinks he needs to sleep on this choice, because he shouldn’t commit to things when he’s this tired. 

So Cody does that— goes to bed, gets his nine hours in, wakes up, goes for a jog, and actually fucking checks his calendar when he gets home.

That weekend is wide open.

Cody still can’t make himself want to say no. 

He looks at his phone, and there’s a text from Dylan Strome. 

_ Dylan: you check?  _

_ Cody: yeah _

_ Dylan: and?  _

_ Cody: im free _

_ Cody: you still want me to?  _

_ Dylan: i’m in if you are  _

_ Cody: guess i’m in, then _

_ Dylan: 😊😘 _

_ Cody: 👍👍👍 _

So this is gonna happen, Cody figures. 

…… 

One of the things that becomes really clear once Cody and Dylan actually start to get to know each other as fake boyfriends—which happens pretty much right away, because Dylan Strome’s life is a train careening towards its destination at a speed Cody can’t actually comprehend—is that Dylan actually already knows a fair bit about Cody. 

“You have a podcast,” Dylan says, shrugging, when Cody asks him about it in the middle of their fourth-ever conversation. “I listen to it.” 

“So you knew who I was before you messaged me?”

“I mean, yeah?” Dylan says. “How else would I have known to message you?”

“I don’t know,” Cody says. “You could’ve heard my name from someone else.”

“I wasn’t going around asking people for fake boyfriend suggestions.” Dylan’s cheeks are sort of flushed. It’s not the worst look in the world.

“Right, yeah,” Cody says. For some reason, the idea that Dylan was a fan of his hadn’t even occurred to him. “So you probably know most of the things you’d need to know about me, right?” 

“Well, not really? I know the public stuff, but not… I don’t know, like personal details.” 

“You’ve listened to hours of me talking about my life.”

“Sure, but that’s not real, is it?” 

“Well, I mean, it’s not a lie,” Cody says, frowning. “I’m pretty candid.” 

“But you’re— acting,” Dylan says.

“No,” Cody says. “I mean, partially, but I’m just… being a public version of myself.”

“A public version of yourself,” Dylan echoes. “That’s fucking weird.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“I mean— not, like,  _ bad  _ weird,” Dylan says. “I just didn’t realize that was a thing.”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean, I sort of figured that either you were being yourself, or you weren’t. But now you’re saying there’s something in between.”

“Of course there is,” Cody says. He’s still frowning, but he isn’t really sure why he’s so offended by this conversation, so he stops. “I mean, obviously there are parts of me that I don’t really put out there.”

“What parts of you?” Dylan asks. “Those sound like the kind of thing your boyfriend would know.”

“I’m not talking about big secrets,” Cody says. “The things fans don’t know about me are mostly just not really exciting or likable.”

“I’m sure you’re likable.”

“Well, yeah, sometimes,” Cody says. “But no one’s as likable as their fans think they are.” He’d had to come to terms with that pretty early on to deal with the whole ‘being famous’ thing. He knows that Dylan doesn’t have to have as much of his personality on display, but still, there’s always a disconnect between who people want you to be and who you actually are. It’s part of being a public figure. 

The fact that Dylan doesn’t seem to have wrapped his head around that balance can probably explain part of this situation, actually, but it’s not Cody’s job to analyze Dylan Strome, so he doesn’t. 

“Well, what are the private things that, like, your friends would know, but your fans wouldn’t?” Dylan asks. “Like, major life events, recent relationships, whatever?” 

“Um, not really. My last real relationship ended… two-ish years ago?” 

“Huh,” Dylan says. “You’re straight, right?”

Cody hates being asked that question point-blank. Like, as far as he knows he’s straight, but he’s not, like,  _ super  _ set in his ways. It’s not like he can predict the future. 

“Yes,” he says, instead of explaining all that. Even if they’re supposed to be getting to know each other, there are some things Cody gets to keep to himself, and he’s never told anyone in his life about that mild blip in his sexuality. He’s pretty sure it’s nothing, anyway. Just an open mind.

Dylan nods once. “Good,” he says. “That’ll make this less complicated.” 

“What does that mean?”

“Nothing,” Dylan says, blushing, and Cody is equal parts amused and intrigued by that expression. It’s gone as quickly as it appeared, though, because Dylan, Cody has come to learn, switches gears more than a biker on a hilly road. “You’ll have to watch my highlight reels.”

Cody raises an eyebrow. “Someone thinks highly of himself.” 

“No, I mean— for research,” Dylan says. “You’re gonna have to know about hockey, if we’re going to pull this off.”

“Okay, sure, but we can talk about that later,” Cody says. “Right now we’re focusing on personal details, right?”

“Yeah, sorry,” Dylan says. “Just didn’t wanna forget that.” 

Cody doesn’t know Dylan Strome all that well yet, but he’s pretty sure his brain works the way Cody’s would, if he hadn’t ever had to apply it to school and shit— retains information, but has no way to file it, just lets it all sort of float around as this sprawling mess in his head. 

“Okay, well, you should—” Cody’s cut off by a knock on his door, looks down at his watch and remembers that he and Noel have a meeting scheduled. “Wait, sorry, I’ve gotta go.” 

“Alright,” Dylan says. “I’ll text you?” 

“Sure thing,” Cody says, and he’s still in the process of hanging up when Noel walks into his apartment. 

“Dude, if you’re gonna get jumpy every time I walk in, don’t leave your door unlocked,” Noel says. 

“I’m not jumpy,” Cody says. “I was just in the middle of something.” 

“Let me guess, another weird phone call?” 

Noel has walked in on Cody talking to Dylan three times now, because Cody tends to schedule things back to back, and conversations with Dylan always go on for longer than Cody thinks they will. 

“It’s not weird, it’s just a phone call.”

Noel rolls his eyes. “Bro, who are you talking to?” 

“Fuck off,” Cody says, without much heat behind it. 

“I’m serious,” Noel says. “Every time I see you, you’re hanging up on someone.”

“It’s nothing, it’s just— there’s this guy.”

Noel’s eyebrows go into the fucking stratosphere at that.

“Not like— it’s just, like, a weird thing. I can’t really talk about it.”

“For real?”

Cody glances over at Noel; if there’s anyone in this world he can trust, it’s him.

“If I tell you what it is, you can’t tell anyone else,” Cody says.

“Alright,” Noel says, which is his version of a solemn promise.

Cody explains the whole situation, starting with Dylan’s message and ending with the boyfriend lessons. Noel’s a pretty low key guy, but Cody can read his reactions as they go from confused to surprised to shit-eating delighted. 

“What the fuck, man,” Noel says, looking far too much like a kid in a candy shop in the face of Cody’s humiliation. “Do you really think you’re gonna pull this off?”

“I mean, I hope so.” Cody hasn’t really thought of failure as a possibility on this one— he’s banking on faking a relationship is such a weird thing to do that no one would even suspect anything. 

“Who’s this guy, anyway?”

“Some hockey player,” Cody says. “He’s… fine.” 

“Fine?” 

“Like, he’s nice, but— he’s kind of annoying, I guess.” 

“That’s kinda harsh, man,” Noel says. 

Cody shrugs. “It’s not like I’m saying it to his face. There are plenty of things worse than being annoying.”

“I guess,” Noel says. 

“And it’s not like he’s a bad person,” Cody says. “I like him fine, he’s just… a lot, sometimes.” 

Noel snorts at that. “You’re also a lot sometimes, man.” 

“Hey,” Cody says, frowning. 

Noel just laughs. “See? It’s harsh, man.” 

“Okay, well— what’s your point?” 

“Don’t be so hard on him,” Noel says, knocking Cody on the back. It’s his version of a truce. “This story could be fucking hilarious if you weren’t so grumpy about it.”

“I’m not grumpy.”

“Really? Because you sound kinda grumpy, bro.”

“I’m stressing out about this, man,” Cody says. “It’s not fucking hilarious when you’re actually the one doing it.”

“Just look at it this way, no matter what happens, you’ll get a story out of it.”

“We can’t talk about it on the pod, by the way,” Cody says. “His family needs to think this is legit. Also, he’d probably hear it.”

“He’s a fan?”

“I think so, yeah.”

Noel just laughs again. “Man, you’re in some deep shit.”

Cody’s not really in the mood to come up with a real comeback, so he just says, “yeah, I know, thanks,” and when Noel claps him on the shoulder, he knows it means,  _ good luck, I think you’re gonna need it.  _

Maybe he added that second part in himself, but part of the beauty of unspoken messages is getting to choose what you hear, or at least how you hear it. 

…… 

“Hey,” Dylan says, “have you booked a flight yet?”

Cody blinks. “What?”

“Like, I mean— I can do it for you, I’d just need to know when you can fly out here.”

“I can do it myself,” Cody says quickly. “I just— I didn’t realize it was so soon, wow.”

“Okay, well, it is,” Dylan says. “So you should—”

“Book the flight, yeah,” Cody says. “Fuck.” 

“What?” 

“It’s really—”

He cuts himself off. Dylan is already stressed enough on his own without Cody’s second thoughts entering the picture. 

“Dude,” Dylan says, sounding more focused than Cody’s ever heard him. “Tell me what’s going on.” 

“Sorry.” Cody’s head is spinning. The ridiculousness of this whole situation is catching up with him, and now he can’t really breathe, because he’s actually going to have to fly to fucking Toronto and pretend to be the boyfriend of someone he’s never fucking met. 

“Just talk to me,” Dylan says. He’s not frazzled, for once— he just sounds worried, but in a weirdly grounded way. It’s not how Cody would’ve expected him to react to a panic attack. 

Because that’s what this is— or at least, what it’s going to be, if Cody doesn’t find a way to stop it. 

God, he didn’t even know he was feeling this weird about this— and why is he? It’s a favor he’s doing for someone else. It doesn’t matter if he fucks this up, there isn’t anything at stake for him. This is Dylan’s life, and Cody’s just tagging along so he can— 

He still doesn’t really know  _ why  _ he agreed to this so easily, honestly. He knows he wants to do this, but he still— 

He doesn’t— 

“Do you wanna hang up for a bit?” Dylan asks. 

Cody shakes his head, which is mostly a reflex. Hanging up might be a good idea, but if he does, he’s definitely gonna start to hyperventilate. 

“I just need a sec,” Cody says. Because that’s all he needs— a second to get his lungs working again, to figure out why this is bothering him so much at all. 

Maybe it’s just the part where he still hasn’t figured out why this  _ matters  _ to him. 

Okay, okay— that’s helpful. That’s something he can think about later. 

“Alright,” Cody says, “sorry about that.” 

“No worries,” Dylan says. “Everything okay?” 

“Yeah,” Cody says. He thinks so, at least. 

He books his plane ticket, and he doesn’t have a panic attack, and later, he thinks about what it is that’s making him feel so unprepared for this. 

And the thing is… he feels kind of bad, when he thinks about it. 

Because the things he feels like he doesn’t know— they’re all about Dylan’s sexuality. Which isn’t Cody’s business, and shouldn’t be relevant, but a part of him really wants to know more about it. 

Cody wonders if it would be bad, to ask more questions about the whole ‘being gay’ part of this. It’s not totally irrelevant—this whole thing is so Dylan can come out to his family—but sexuality shouldn’t be everything about a person, right? 

And Dylan had asked Cody about his, but that was just. One small question. Not a whole conversation about feelings, or anything. 

Part of the thing Cody’s thinking about is that he’s gonna have to pretend to be gay, though. There will people who will see him with another dude and expect them to act like a couple, expect him to be the kind of person who dates other men. 

Obviously, Cody’s fine with that. He’s cool with gay people, so he’s cool with people thinking he’s gay, even if it’s just for one night. He knows that there’s a chance a fan will be at the wedding, that rumors will probably float around after this, but it’s not like those rumors don’t already exist. He’s a person on the internet, and he has a very public friendship with another man. There’s a way these things work. 

But he doesn’t want to do something that will make him seem… 

He doesn’t even know. 

He thinks that he should maybe look up some shit about what it’s like to actually  _ be  _ gay, watch a video or read an article about coming out, or something. That would be responsible. It’d be like getting into character.

He thinks about it, and then he starts to feel weird, so he puts it out of his head. 

…… 

Cody ends up on a flight with a layover in Philly, which is responsible financially, but not a great thing for his nerves— he’s usually pretty okay with flying, but today, he keeps catching himself doing anxious things, like gripping tightly to the armrest and clenching his jaw. He tells himself he’s just overcaffeinated, but in reality, it’s gotta be about Dylan. No one tells you that flying to a whole different country to meet up with a total stranger is a very stress-inducing experience, but maybe, no one should have to tell you that. 

Anyway. 

He gets to baggage claim, grabs his stuff, then turns around to see Dylan Strome walking into the airport, hands stuffed in his pockets, eyes darting around the room before they finally land on Cody. 

Dylan is a lot taller than Cody is expecting.

Like, on an intellectual level, Cody knew that Dylan is 6’3”, but it’s one thing to have that as a fact in his head, and another to be standing in front of a whole 6 feet and 3 inches of hockey player. He’s also just… bigger than Cody had gleaned from FaceTiming him or looking at pictures. For some reason, Cody had it in his head that Dylan was a svelte guy, but looking at him in the middle of Pearson, Cody can see that his chest is surprisingly broad. 

“Hey,” Cody says, going in for a bro hug. “Thanks for picking me up.”

“Are you fucking kidding me? Thanks for being here, dude, this is the weirdest favor anyone’s ever done for me.” Dylan gives Cody a pat on the back, then pulls away. His hand lingers on Cody’s arm as he says, “Seriously, though, if you need anything, I’ve got your back.” 

“Thanks,” Cody says, his mouth a little dry. Over the phone, Dylan had seemed more human, but in person, there’s just— a lot more of him. His voice is clearer, his arms are right there, and his eyes are all shiny and bright. They’re the kind of eyes people get lost in a lot, probably. 

For the first time, Cody kind of gets the appeal. 

Not that he hadn’t gotten it before— Dylan’s cute, in a sleepy way. But now, Cody actually  _ gets  _ it, understands it on an entirely new level. The thought makes him feel vaguely uneasy, so he reaches down to grab his bag, except Dylan reaches down to grab Cody’s bag at the same time, and their hands kind of brush. 

Cody pulls his hand away like he’s been shocked, which is a weird fucking reaction that he doesn’t dwell on. 

“It’s fine, I can—” Cody starts, at the same time Dylan says, “Sorry, I was just offering to—” 

There’s an awkward beat of silence.

“It’s cool,” Cody says, breaking it. “I can carry it myself.” 

“Okay, sorry, I didn’t mean to…” his voice trails off. 

“You’re fine,” Cody says. This isn’t at all how he thought this would go. 

He briefly wonders how they’re going to convince Dylan’s whole family they’re a real couple if he can’t even be around Dylan without feeling weird and awkward. He hopes this wears off fast, whatever it is. 

…… 

Cody did his homework, thankfully, so he’s prepared to recognize Dylan’s family when he meets them— his younger brother Matthew takes after his mom Trish, his older brother Ryan takes after his dad Chris, and Dylan’s face is somewhere in between both his parents, though definitely leaning more towards his dad’s side for sure.

Ryan introduces himself first, because he’s running out the door when Cody and Dylan are walking in. The introduction is a quick hi-and-bye thing, because he’s got wedding stuff to do, which is fair, and Ryan apologizes about a million times, before sharing a meaningful look with Dylan and running off to deal with some groomsman drama. 

Matt’s the tallest, but also the youngest and the youngest looking. He’s got a baby face and a permanent grin, and Cody feels like he’s looking at a 6-foot-something toddler when he sees him for the first time.

“It’s nice to meet you,” Matt says, giving Cody a hug. “I don’t know if my brother told you, but I’m the reason you’re together.” 

“Oh yeah?” Cody gives Matt his most affable meet-and-greet smile. He hopes it doesn’t come across as impersonal. 

“Yep,” Matt says proudly. “I’m the one who told him about your channel.” 

“You sent me  _ one video,”  _ Dylan says. “I’m the one who told you about the podcast.” 

“But without me, you wouldn’t have seen his face, which is totally the reason you wanted to date him.” 

“I like his personality too,” Dylan says, which is both vaguely insulting and mildly flattering. 

“I feel a little objectified,” Cody says, mostly to break up the argument. “It’s nice to meet you too, though.” 

“Sorry he’s a weirdo.” 

“It’s okay.” Cody knocks his elbow against Dylan’s side. “I like weirdos.” 

Matt laughs very hard at that, and Cody feels a little proud. He feels even more proud when Dylan blushes a little deeper and gives him a fond smile. 

Maybe spending a weekend pretending to be Dylan’s boyfriend won’t actually be all that hard. They seem to have the flirting part down, at least. 

The next people Cody meets are Dylan’s parents, which is slightly more intimidating than meeting his brothers.

“You must be Cody,” says Dylan’s mom. “It’s nice to finally meet you.” 

“You too,” Cody says, going in for the hug. He recognizes a family of huggers when he sees one. “Thank you for letting me stay with you guys also, and making sure there was room for me—”

“Oh, shush, they’d already planned for Dylan’s plus-one,” she says. “And we’re happy to have you stay with us. Any partner of my son’s is welcome in our home any time.”

“That’s very gracious,” Cody says. It probably comes out stiff—he doesn’t really whip out ‘gracious’ in casual conversation—but Trish Strome looks amused, so he’s hoping it comes across as charmingly nervous. It’s not that far off from the truth, really— he’s hoping to make a good impression here. It’s just for the sake of a fake boyfriend and not a real one, is all. 

“I’m sure it’s not just for your benefit,” says Dylan’s dad, Chris, as he walks into the kitchen. Cody recognizes him from social media and shit, but even if he didn’t, he’d be able to tell by the way he has the exact same face as his oldest son. “She got the old baby photos out of the basement today.” 

Dylan narrows his eyes. “The cute pictures were already in the living room.” 

“Well, some of my favorites were down there,” she says.

Dylan groans. “You got the embarrassing ones, didn’t you. This is gonna be like prom all over again.”

“Oh, you’re always so dramatic,” Trish says, waving him off. “None of them are that bad. Judi has all the bathtub ones.”

“Never talk about the bathtub pictures ever again.” 

“They’re baby pictures! They’re cute!” Trish protests. “Matthew has no problem with me showing off his.”

“Yeah, because he was a cute kid,” Dylan says. “I looked like a scrawny alien.”

“I’m sure you were a very cute alien,” Cody says, because he’s not a professional comedian for nothing.

“Don’t encourage her,” Dylan says. “You’re supposed to be on my side.” 

“No,  _ you _ already like me,” Cody says. 

“You’re very sweet,” Trish says, smiling at him. “You two should go get ready for the rehearsal dinner. You’ll be staying in Dylan’s room. Dylan, bring his bag upstairs.”

“Yes, mom,” Dylan says, grabbing Cody’s suitcase and nodding at him to follow him upstairs.

…… 

The rehearsal dinner goes smoothly, and Cody doesn’t have to do much besides drink champagne and smile politely. If there’s one thing he’s good at, it’s small talk.

Dylan’s mostly there to help him, but at one point he wanders off to talk to his brother about something, and Cody gets caught in a conversation with a man he’s pretty sure is actually kind of a big deal hockey player. He also happens to be the most boring person Cody’s ever met, unfortunately, so the conversation feels a little bit like pulling teeth. 

“Hello, John, may I interrupt?” a voice says, and when Cody turns around, Chris Strome is standing behind him. “I wanted to have a quick word with my son’s date.” 

“Of course,” John says, and turns around to leave. Cody tries to catch a subtle glance as he walks away—because he knows what hockey can do for a guy’s backside—but then he remembers he’s pretending to be gay, so he could theoretically try and not-subtly glance at his ass. He then immediately remembers that he’s pretending to be gay because he’s supposed to be someone’s boyfriend and is talking to that guy’s day, though, so he decides against any and all checking out of other people. 

He’s got this. 

“So,” Chris says, “are you having a good time?” 

“Yeah, definitely,” Cody says. “It’s been nice meeting everyone.” 

Chris nods. “Good,” he says. “So I wanted to talk to you about something. I… I know we didn’t get to talk much at the house, but I’d just like to say that I really appreciate what you’ve done for our son. I mean, not with one particular thing, just— we see that you make him happy.” 

“Oh,” Cody says, blushing a little. “I mean— of course. He’s really…” he searches for a word. “He’s great.” 

“I know it must not be easy, with both of you being public figures, but you do make him happy.” He looks serious, which is more than a little intimidating. “It’s hard having a son keep secrets from you.”

“I’m sorry that we—”

“It’s not about you,” Chris says. “I’m trying to… thank you. For helping him open up to us again.” 

“You’re welcome,” Cody says. If he’s being honest, he didn’t really expect to have this kind of conversation with Dylan’s dad, and he gets the sense that Chris doesn’t do this kind of thing very often either. It feels bad to lie to him, but Cody pushes down the guilt. 

“We’re really happy to have you here,” Dylan’s dad says. Then, shifting gears, “Have you met the bride’s parents yet?” 

“I haven’t, actually,” Cody says. 

“I think Dylan’s talking to them,” Chris says. “If you wanted to introduce yourself.”

Cody appreciates the out. 

Afterwards, when Cody’s been introduced to everyone and the speeches have all passed, Dylan asks, “what were you talking about with my dad?”

“You,” Cody says, shrugging.

“What, like, ‘break his heart and I’ll break your arms,’ or.”

“Nah, it was the nicer version of that,” Cody says. He offers Dylan a smile. “I think he likes me.”

“Awesome,” Dylan says, and then—weirdly—he takes Cody’s hand. Because it would be the natural thing to do, if they were in a real relationship and this were a real conversation, probably, and because they need to be convincing, and this is probably a good way to do that.

But that doesn’t stop Cody’s heart from doing something weird in his chest when it happens.

…… 

So Cody hadn’t really thought much about sharing a bed before, but now that it’s bedtime, the topic is a little unavoidable. He tells himself that it will only be awkward if he lets it get awkward, so all he had to do is not let it get awkward, and he’ll be fine. 

It sort of works.

Dylan is incredibly chill about the fact that they’re going to have to sleep together tonight. Dylan, in fact, is sitting shirtless in bed like it’s nothing, absently scrolling through his phone. Cody doesn’t even like to use the locker room at the gym, but apparently Dylan can just be half naked in front of a total stranger and be okay with it. Then again, NHL players shower with their teammates and get interviewed after games in the same room they get changed in, so. 

“So,” Cody says awkwardly. “Which side of the bed do you prefer?”

Dylan looks to his left, and then his right. Then, he shrugs. “Neither.”

“Neither?” Cody asks, raising an eyebrow. 

“I mean, I can go either way,” Dylan says. He pauses. “If I was bisexual, I could make a really funny joke right now.”

“If you were bisexual, you could make… a joke, right now,” Cody says. “I don’t know if I would call it really funny.” 

“Asshole,” Dylan says, not unfondly. “So, how was day one of the fake boyfriend bit?” 

Cody shrugs. “Not bad,” he says. “Your family is nice.” 

“They are,” Dylan agrees. “Sydney’s family, too. I was a little freaked out bringing my boyfriend— or, well,” he does airquotes, “but Ryan said they’re all chill, so.” 

“That’s good,” Cody says. Then, because he’s been curious, and because this conversation feels more comfortable than he expected it to: “I mean, have you thought about coming out?” 

“Like… to everyone?” Dylan gestures with both his hands, like he’s trying to indicate the entire world.

Cody nods, and Dylan shrugs.

“I mean… I guess? Sort of?” Dylan says. “It might be nice, to not have to keep it a secret, but I’m still working on telling the people in my life, y’know? I’m not exactly dying to tell, like, my agent.”

Cody hasn’t really thought about the fact that Dylan has an agent. Like, Cody has an agent, but he considers that to be a weird consequence of his career. Which— that's probably the same way Dylan thinks of his agent, actually, but it’s sort of weird, that they have this… thing, in common.

“Why did you tell your parents you had a boyfriend? For real?” Cody asks, because it’s been bugging him. “I mean— no offense, dude, but I’ve seen you with them. You wouldn’t lie on purpose, even to make things easier.”

“You’re really on one with the questions, huh,” Dylan says.

This time, it’s Cody’s turn to shrug.

Dylan sighs. “It’s… honestly, it’s embarrassing, but— I had this friend—still have him, I mean, but—anyway, like, he was helping me figure all this shit out, and I sort of thought that… like, that he and I…” He squeezes his eyes shut. “I just really misread the situation, y’know?”

“Were you two, like, hooking up?”

Dylan shakes his head. “Not even that,” he says. “He was just so  _ nice _ .”

It practically hurts, how sad and embarrassed and small Dylan sounds.

“You liked him.” Cody doesn’t phrase it as a question, because it’s not one— or if it was, Dylan already gave him an answer. He gets it now, why Dylan decided to enlist a total fucking stranger in some weird zany plot, instead of just admitting what happened— he got rejected by someone he cared about, in the most humiliating way possible. The only way to minimize that suffering is to go through it alone.

“The only bright side is that he’ll never know,” Dylan says. “And that I learned my lesson about not falling for straight guys, I guess.”

“Oh, that’s really—”

“Rough, yeah, I know,” Dylan says. “I swear I’m usually not this— messy.”

“No judgments here, man,” Cody says, putting his hands up. “I guarantee I’ve been a million times messier.”

“Yeah?” Dylan’s got this twinkle in his eye now, and it takes Cody a second to realize that Dylan’s waiting for an example. 

“I mean— I once, like, literally drank piss,” Cody says. “It’s on the internet, in a video. Someone handed me a cup with piss in it, and I drank it.”

“On video?” 

God, what is it about Dylan’s eyes?

“Yeah, on  _ my  _ video,” Cody says. “And then I watched it, edited it, and decided to post it. So, like— don’t worry about messy, dude.” 

“I don’t think I’ve seen that one,” Dylan says.

“And I hope you never do,” Cody says earnestly, which earns him a laugh from Dylan. 

“Thanks,” Dylan says. Then, with a little more sincerity, “And… thanks.” 

“Of course,” Cody says, and then he has a strange, fleeting thought that he’d potentially do anything for Dylan, but he doesn’t dwell on it, because it doesn’t make much sense. 

He chalks it up to his brain getting caught up in the moment, and the fact that he’s starting to think that the two of them might actually be friends.

That’s… a really nice thought. 

Strangely enough, after all Cody’s worrying about sharing a bed with Dylan, he ends up falling asleep easily— sure, it’s too hot under the covers, but he finds that he likes the sound of Dylan’s breathing. 

It’s a comfortable sound, he thinks. 

…… 

The day of the wedding is a little hectic, but Cody doesn’t have to do much but watch things happen and occasionally hold Dylan’s hand. A few times, Dylan’s arm ends up over his shoulders, which Cody doesn’t dislike at all— Dylan’s arm is impressively long and right at shoulder height. It would be a shame if it didn’t end up around Cody’s arm at some point, probably.

Cody doesn’t cry during the ceremony, but Dylan does. Dylan’s a self-proclaimed crier, and he’d told Cody as much over the phone, so it doesn’t really take him by surprise. Cody just gives Dylan’s hand a squeeze as soon as he sees him, and doesn’t make fun of him. 

“How’re you doing?” Cody asks. 

“Alright,” Dylan says, wiping his eyes. “I’m just, y’know, the proudest brother in the world.” 

Cody thinks about that, and thinks about Ryan standing at the altar looking so goddamn happy, and even though it’s not his day or his family, he can’t help but get where Dylan’s coming from. 

He smiles. “That checks out,” he says. “Do you want to get some champagne?” 

“Please,” Dylan says. 

They drink a little, talk a little, and do other wedding stuff, and Cody’s happy to be a spectator to it all, and by the time the couple’s first dance rolls around, he’s got a hand draped over the back of Dylan’s chair. It’s boyfriendly enough that everyone gets the message, but Cody’s debating moving so that he’s actually got his hand on Dylan. That would probably be even more convincing, and also, Dylan’s probably warm, and Cody’s hand keeps gravitating towards his back. 

He’s so wrapped up thinking about whether or not he can get away with touching Dylan that he almost misses it when the emcee calls for all the couples to join them on the dance floor. 

“Should we—” Cody nods in the direction of the dance floor. “Get out there?” 

“Oh,” Dylan says. “Yeah, we probably should.” 

He stands up, then holds out a hand for Cody, and Cody tries not to think about the way Dylan’s hand feels in his too much as he’s lead out to the dance floor. 

Cody’s never danced with someone taller than him before; he’s never danced with someone else leading. But Dylan’s hand is firm on his hip, even as Cody narrowly avoids stepping on his toes. 

“Sorry,” Cody says. “I’m not a good dancer.” 

“Neither am I,” Dylan says. “We’re fine.” 

Cody lowers his voice, leans in to make sure only Dylan can hear. “This won’t… give us away, right?” 

“What?” Dylan says, laughing a bit. Cody can feel his chest move with it, and he tries to swallow down any feelings he has about how close they‘re standing. 

“The pretending thing,” Cody says. “No one’s gonna notice that we don’t know how to dance with each other?” 

“I mean, half the couples here don’t seem to know how to slow dance with each other, so I’d say we’re fine,” Dylan says. 

Cody looks away from Dylan for the first time since the song started, and realizes that Dylan’s probably right. Everyone looks a little clumsy and out of their element, save for a few older couples. But still, Cody feels like there’s— something, with him and Dylan, something that feels too charged to be anything but new. 

Maybe that’s just Cody, though. 

“How are you okay at dancing?” Dylan asks, not whispering, but still speaking in a low voice, only meant for Cody.

“I don’t know,” Cody says, smiling a little. “I’m a recording artist?”

“Right, of course,” Dylan says, rolling his eyes as he lifts his hand to spin Cody around. “I should make them play one of your songs.”

Cody laughs as he puts his hand back on Dylan’s shoulder. “I doubt this band would know any of them.”

“The drummer looks like he’s about 5’5”,” Dylan says.

“He’s sitting down!” Cody protests.

“Yeah, but look at him,” Dylan says. “He’s got short guy vibes.”

“Are you implying that all my fans are short?”

“I’m saying that short guys are probably more likely to be fans of your music than not-short guys.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is ‘tall.’”

“Whatever,” Dylan says. “You’ve inspired short guys everywhere, so if the drummer is short, he might be a fan. It’s just math.”

“That’s absolutely not how math works.”

“You’re a nerd, you know that?” Dylan says, and he’s smiling all fond, like this is an old joke of theirs, like they’ve known each other for years and not just a couple of months— except it’s only really been like this for the last few days, if Cody’s being honest. 

The song changes, and the night goes on. 

Cody drinks a fair amount. It’s that kind of wedding— just a huge party that goes on into the night, a lot of love, friends and alcohol. After a few hours, no one’s quite steady on their feet, but everyone’s happy and clothing’s coming off as everyone begins to overheat. Cody’s is just unbuttoned down to his stomach, but Dylan’s is fully off his body, and Cody can see miles and miles of skin. 

He can’t stop staring at Dylan’s chest. 

“You’re checking out my brother,” Ryan says, coming up behind Cody and throwing an arm around his shoulder. 

Cody almost feels embarrassed, but he laughs instead. “I’m allowed.” 

“Hey, be respectful. That’s my little brother,” Ryan says, the smile disappearing from his face.

Cody is a little worried for a second, but then Ryan bursts out laughing.

“Kidding, kidding,” Ryan says. “Live your life, man. As long as you love him, you’re welcome.” 

“I'm not gonna lie, I was nervous to meet you guys,” Cody says. “Not that you’re not nice, but just, like— I was scared you wouldn’t think I was good enough for him.” 

“You make him happy,” Ryan says. “That’s good enough for us.”

“It’s nice to make him happy,” Cody says, almost automatically. “He deserves to be happy.”

“Exactly,” Ryan says. “And that—” he puts a finger on Cody’s chest. “—is why we approve of you. You get him.”

And this tiny part of Cody can’t help but think:  _ yes.  _ Even if most of this is a lie, that part is real. Cody understands how Dylan works, sees beneath the insecurity and dramatics to the sincerity, which isn’t buried all that deep, but is still hard for some people to spot. Which isn’t to say that some parts of Dylan aren’t still immensely confusing to him, but the point is that Cody likes how confusing they are. 

“Ryan,” Dylan whines, shoving his body between them so that his arm is around Cody, which is far preferable. “Stop bothering him.” 

“I’m not bothering him,” Ryan laughs. “I’m just telling your boyfriend that we like him.” 

“Good,” Dylan retorts, and Cody knows he’s only being insistent out of defiance to his older brother, but it’s still a nice thing to be on the receiving end of. 

“You guys are cute,” Ryan says. He taps a groomsman on the shoulder. “Don’t you think they’re cute, John?” 

The boring guy from the rehearsal dinner turns around. “Very cute, Ry.” 

“ They should kiss,” another, drunker groomsman says.

And that catches on.

Cody’s a little too drunk to keep up with all chaos, but one second, everyone’s shouting generally, and the next, there’s a chorus of drunk men chanting at Dylan and Cody to kiss. 

“Ryan,” Dylan groans, but Ryan probably doesn’t hear, because he’s doubled over laughing. 

“Kiss! Kiss! Kiss!” all the groomsmen chant, along with a few random bystanders who don’t actually seem to realize what’s going on but are happy to be part of a good time. 

“Guys, for real, stop,” Dylan says. He turns to Cody. “Sorry about them.” 

“I’m just really happy for you, Pickle,” Ryan says. 

“Pickle?” Cody asks. 

“Dyl Pickle,” Ryan says. “God, I’ve been so busy getting married I didn’t even have a chance to embarrass you in front of your boyfriend.” 

“Don’t worry, you’re doing it plenty right now,” Dylan says. 

“Come on, you love it,” Ryan says, and Dylan looks down at his feet and makes a noise of vague disagreement.

And in that moment, Cody realizes that Dylan genuinely does appreciate it, as mortified as he is.

It breaks Cody’s fucking heart for a second, thinking about how Dylan’s always wanted to have a moment like this, his family being aggressive and dorky and loving. Dylan loves how embarrassing his family is. If he were with a real boyfriend, he’d probably be beaming underneath those gelled-back curls.

“Hey,” Cody says, soft enough that only Dylan can hear him. “If you want—” He nods in the direction of the small mob of chanting men. “We could.”

Dylan turns to look at him, and Cody sees the tiny crease between his eyebrows, the red at the tops of his cheeks. “You mean, we could…” his voice trails off.

“Just to shut them up, I mean,” Cody says. It’s not really what he means at all, but he thinks Dylan knows that.

“Are you sure?” Dylan asks.

Cody nods, ignoring the lump in his throat as he says, “C’mere.”

When Dylan doesn’t move, Cody realizes that he’s gonna have to be the one to take the first step.

As he’s leaning up to kiss Dylan, it occurs to him that there are different ways this kiss can go. It could be brief and perfunctory, which would be the most sensible option, but also runs the risk of being awkward, and also— 

It’s not what Cody wants, really.

As Cody’s lips meet Dylan’s, soft and surprised, he genuinely believes that he’s about to do something for Dylan, to give him a moment of being wanted, the thrill of a real, deep kiss, the kind of show that will earn them applause from their onlookers— because that’s what Dylan deserves, to be loved, to be shown that love. Dylan’s loneliness has been a long uphill trek, and Cody thinks he deserves to have a beautiful vista, something to enjoy and to remind him what he’s climbing toward. 

But then Cody’s mouth opens, and he remembers that he’s very, very human. 

And, sure, a part of him is doing this for Dylan, but when it comes down to it, Cody wouldn’t be kissing Dylan if he didn’t want to just. Kiss Dylan. That should be a scary thought, he thinks, but it doesn’t occur to him until he’s sneaking his tongue between Dylan’s lips, which is maybe softening the impact of the realization. 

Because it’s weird— Cody didn’t even realize he wanted Dylan until this very moment, but now that he’s doing this, it just feels right, like this is something they’ve been building toward for a while. It just makes sense, Cody wanting to kiss Dylan— for a bunch of reasons he’s maybe not quite ready to understand. Except for one that he does understand, which is that Dylan brings out a side of Cody that’s romantic and impulsive and wants to have strange, weird adventures that are just for him. 

The noise of the wedding party fades into the background, and all Cody can hear is his own heartbeat in his ears, and all he can feel is Dylan’s shoulders under his hands, Dylan’s mouth against his, Dylan’s stubble rubbing against the skin of his face. The whole thing is impossibly hot, and also just straight-up impossible. 

But god, does Cody  _ want  _ it. 

He runs his hands over Dylan’s chest as he kisses him, feeling the way his skin is sticky with sweat. He’s obsessed with that, actually, and he wants—

“Okay guys, keep it PG,” a voice says, and Dylan pulls away before Cody knows what’s happening.

It’s Matt who’s standing there, looking equal parts amused and uncomfortable.

“Mom wanted me to find you,” Matt says. “Or— she was gonna come looking for you herself, but I volunteered.”

Considering the state of the dance floor, that was probably for the best, Cody thinks. 

“Right,” Dylan says, looking around, blinking. “Should I go find her?”

“Probably,” Matt says.

Dylan turns to Cody, looking suddenly unsure. On instinct, Cody smiles, and he gets to watch the way Dylan flushes all the way down to his collarbone.

“Go find her,” Cody says. He reaches out and gives Dylan’s hand a squeeze, and it feels like the most natural thing in the world. “I’ll be here.” 

As Dylan turns to walk away, Cody doesn’t bother with not staring. It’s fun to watch him walk away. 

…… 

Cody wakes up the next morning in Dylan’s bed, the beginnings of a hangover stirring in his head. 

He turns to look at Dylan, who’s asleep in nothing but the boxer-briefs he’d worn under his suit. There’s still gel in his hair, and the blanket is down around his ankles, and last night— 

Last night. 

Cody kissed Dylan.

No— Cody  _ made out  _ with Dylan, in front of everyone. He could’ve done nothing, but instead he stuck his tongue down another dude’s throat because he wanted to try it. Which is horrible and selfish for sure, but at the same time, Dylan kissed back, so Cody can’t help but think that it was also… not just him. 

Cody does what he’d been too drunk to do last night: he freaks the fuck out, because kissing someone is a big complicated deal. All of last night had been a big and complicated deal. Cody’s never had to be a pretend boyfriend before, so maybe these feelings just come with the territory, but right now this is all very new and overwhelming, and Cody doesn’t really know how to process them.

Cody had never kissed a guy before last nigjt, and as far as firsts go, that one had been fucking incredible. And he’s not upset about that—like, at all—but it’s another thing to consider. Because he’s never felt things like this for another guy, right? So what does it mean that he’s feeling like this about the first guy he ever kissed? And how much does it matter, anyway? Because it’s not like he wasn’t vaguely aware that he could, someday, have this sort of experience, but now that it’s happened, it feels like it could be—should be?—different.

He’s starting to lose track of his train of thought when Dylan snores and rolls over.

God, he really is just— so cute. Cody wants to wrap himself around him, or curl up in his chest or something. 

He doesn’t even think it matters what those feelings mean about him in general, at least not right now. 

Right now, he just wants Dylan. 

So he waits for Dylan to wake up, and thinks about it. He watches Dylan roll out of bed and counts the vertebrae in his spine. He follows Dylan as he stumbles into the kitchen and makes them both some coffee, and sits with their legs pressed together as they eat the pancakes Dylan’s parents had made.

It’s so easy, being with Dylan, even when it’s not real.

That means something.

That  _ has  _ to mean something.

…… 

Cody’s packing to leave later that day, and Dylan says, “I think you did too good a job last night.”

“Oh yeah?” Cody says.

“Yeah,” Dylan says. “My family is gonna have a hard time believing it when we— y’know.”

And Cody sees an in. 

“Look,” Cody says, “I was thinking— what if we just… didn’t?”

“Didn’t what?” Dylan asks.

Cody can’t bring himself to look at Dylan’s face, so he focuses his eyes on the floor instead. “Didn’t tell them we broke up,” he says. “Didn’t call it quits.”

“But then we’d have to keep doing this,” Dylan says. 

“Well… yeah,” Cody says. “That’s kind of the point.”

“But— it’s a lie,” Dylan says. “We’d have to keep lying to my family.”

“Well, what if it wasn’t?”

“What if it wasn’t what?”

“What if it wasn’t a lie,” Cody says. “Like, what if— we tried this? For real?”

For a long second, Dylan doesn’t say anything.

“Look, I know this has been fun, but… it’s just, like. This. Just— one weekend, pretending to be boyfriends, that’s it.”

“Right, but I’m asking it to be more than that,” Cody says. “I’m asking  _ you  _ for that.”

“Dude, we can’t… that’s, like, not how this works,” Dylan says. “You’re gonna go back to LA, and I’m gonna go back to Chicago, and this whole thing ends.” 

“Says who?” 

“Says… I don’t know, everyone.” 

“That doesn’t make sense,” Cody says. “It’s not like there are rules for this kind of thing.” 

“There kind of are, yeah,” Dylan says. “The common sense ones, like, don’t fuck up and don’t make it more complicated than it needs to be.”

“I’m not trying to make this more complicated,” Cody says, the heat of regret starting to simmer right under his skin.

“Then what are you trying to do?” 

“I’m trying to— to be with you, I don’t know,” Cody says. “I’ve had a really good time this weekend, and I kind of thought there might be something here, if that’s what you wanted.”

“But it’s not about what I want,” Dylan says. 

Cody looks at him, a little disbelieving. “What are you talking about?” he says. “Of course it’s about what you want. What else could it possibly  _ be  _ about?” 

“I don’t know, just— there’s other stuff.” Dylan doesn’t sound too sure on that point. “I thought you were straight.”

Cody feels his face go red as he shrugs. “I guess things change.”

“What, for me? Because of one kiss?”

That feels a little like a slap to the face.

“Okay, well,” Cody says. “Forget I asked.”

Dylan huffs and walks out of the room, and Cody finishes packing alone.

…… 

Cody doesn’t really know what to do with himself back in LA. He feels the same way he had going back to his childhood home after his first year of college—like everything had been the same, but he’d become a different person. This time, though, it feels even more unfair, because he’s only been gone a week, and it’s not like he’s here that much anyway. He would think touring would change him more than a random ass wedding date, but then again, his tours happen on his terms. This time, he’d gone off and done something weird and impulsive for a total fucking stranger, and all he’d gotten for his efforts was… rejected, really. 

But really, LA isn’t the thing he’s worried about fitting into. His friendship with Noel is.

It’s not that Cody is worried about Noel being shitty or something. Noel will have his back no matter who he likes, even if it’s a dude, and Cody knows that, but it’s just— it’s a big change, and he’s sort of freaking out about how he’s gonna explain the weekend to Noel. It’s the biggest thing Cody’s gone through in recent years that Noel hasn’t been a part of in some way. It’s just— it’s weird.

But he tells him all of it, after a few weird days. He sits him down and tells him everything, in all its gory feelings-laden glory. It takes him a while to get through it all, because he doesn’t spare any details, but Noel’s a good listener, so he lets Cody talk and talk, lets him blabber on like the words will help it make any sort of sense. 

When all’s said and done, all Noel can say is, “Bruh.” 

It’s more or less what Cody’s expecting. 

“I know,” Cody says. “I  _ know,  _ okay?” 

“I don’t want to give you too much shit right now, man, but how do you fall  _ that  _ hard for someone,  _ that  _ fast?” Noel asks. “How are you ever single?”

“You’re not being helpful,” Cody says.

“I’m just saying, this story is very prototypically you,” Noel says. “You really fell in love with a whole man in one weekend.”

Cody frowns at him. 

“Okay, I’m done giving you crap now,” Noel says. “That sounds like a lot to handle, for real.”

It occurs to Cody that he was almost definitely in love with Noel at some point. He mentally thanks his lucky stars that he got over it before he realized it. 

……

Dylan doesn’t make a habit of answering the door without looking through the peephole first, but he’s less worried about his personal safety than is strictly practical, so he sometimes just forgets. 

It’s the middle of the day in the middle of the week, though, so it’s not like he’s going to get murdered. 

He’s not expecting anything when he opens the door, really. Maybe a neighbor, or the mailman, or something Alex ordered on Amazon. 

What he gets is Cody Ko. 

“Hey, so,” Cody says. “It felt like we didn’t get to finish our conversation from last week.” 

“Right,” Dylan says slowly, and then: “Wait, what?” 

“The day after the wedding, I tried to tell you I liked you, and you blew me off,” Cody says. “But— look. Maybe we don’t know each other that well, and— and maybe this is a big mistake, but, like, I’m not just gonna not fucking try, okay? I want to  _ get _ to know you. I want to learn. I want to make this work.”

It sounds like Cody practiced saying those exact words, and Dylan is having a hard time believing this is happening. 

“Do you want to come in?” Dylan asks. 

Cody frowns, nods, and walks into the apartment. 

“Did you fly here from LA?” 

“Yes,” Cody says. “Because I wanted to talk to you.” 

“About what?” 

“About us.” 

“Couldn’t this have been a phone call?” 

“Do you want it to be a phone call?” 

“Not really,” Dylan says. “Is this a grand gesture?” 

“No, I flew here from LA to make a medium-sized gesture,” Cody says, rolling his eyes. “Yes, it’s a grand gesture.” 

“Like,” Dylan says. “A romantic one?” 

Cody shrugs. “Is it okay if it is?” 

“I…” Dylan’s voice trails off, because,  _ yes, it’s okay,  _ but also, this is super fucking surreal, and Dylan’s afraid to say anything right now, in case it turns out that this is just a dream. “Huh?” 

“Look— did you have fun last weekend?” 

“Yeah,” Dylan says. “I really did.” 

“Cool,” Cody says. “Cool, that’s— okay, remember how you said you’d owe me a favor?” 

“Sure,” Dylan says. 

“Let me take you out to dinner.” 

Dylan blinks. “That’s… not how favors work.” 

“You can say no,” Cody says. 

“That’s not what I meant.” 

“What’d you mean, then?” 

“If you’re buying, then I’m not doing you a favor. I’d still owe you one.” 

“I think I get to set the terms of the favor here,” Cody says. “So will you go out to dinner with me?”

Dylan thinks about it for a second, but he doesn’t really need to. 

He already knows what he’s going to say. 

**Author's Note:**

> cody ko, on his way to fake date another man: 


End file.
